


I'm More Like Me When I'm With You

by hellraisin



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, New Year's Eve, Parallel Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-07 01:45:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1114049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellraisin/pseuds/hellraisin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The man she loved was standing before her, yet, not really. The man she loved was off travelling the galaxies; this man in front of her was just a wax figure that had learned to talk, a caricature that could imitate him perfectly.</p>
<p>__</p>
<p>Or the one where Rose Tyler struggles to accept that the Doctor's duplicate is actually the man she used to know, and so New Years resolutions are made.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm More Like Me When I'm With You

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as part of a thirty minute writing challenge with my best friend, Ray, and the only prompt we had was 'New Year's Resolutions'. Here was the rubbish that I managed to scribble up.

Like most things in the parallel universe, things were eerily similar, but just a little off. There was something not quite right about.. well, everything. Like the fact that there were scientific corporations running the country, zeppelins roaming the skies, and Rose Tyler’s father was still alive. That was... definitely off.

She loved having her Dad back. Of course she did. God knows Jackie certainly did; the new baby sister was certainly proof of that. But that was only one of the many strange things that Rose wasn’t used to – Pete had died was she was only young, so she’d lived an entire life without him in it. Now she was expected to welcome him back with open arms and treat him like the father he would have been if he’d never been hit by that bloody car.

Even having Mickey back was strange – he had opted to stay in the parallel world to replace his doppelganger, Ricky, a long time before Rose had been forced to stay there. She’d almost gotten used to not having him around.

But by far the strangest thing about Rose Tyler’s new life was the Doctor she’d brought home from her adventure through the tear in the universe. He was so akin to the one she’d travelled with for two years (if there _was_ actually a linear way of measuring the amount of time they’d spent together – being in the TARDIS was like being in a vacuum; cut off from both the rest of the world, and the laws of physics) that she often forgot that he wasn’t exactly the same person.

The reminders were often harsh. Sometimes she’d remember that this Doctor was half human in funny ways; like when he’d be exceptionally sassier than the man she knew – something he’d picked up off that red-headed companion he’d had... Donna or something. She couldn’t remember.

Sometimes the reminders were much crueler, like the fact that the Doctor himself might start talking about different planets like he’d forgotten who he was: _You should see the star in the middle of the Vectronicus solar system, Rose, it burns bright blue. A big turquoise sun. Like an ocean. A burning ocean. I should take you, one day. I really should._ And then the look of realisation on his face when he remembered that jumping into a TARDIS wasn’t actually an option any more, that he couldn’t whisk Rose away to whatever planet he felt like visiting that day, was enough to make anyone feel terrible for him. He’d sort of trail off into silence and sit there with his lips pursed, ducking his head. Whether that was because remembering those things were impossible were painful to _him_ or whether he knew it was hurting Rose was a different story. It was like he knew that it wasn’t just him that felt robbed of his freedom.

  

On New Year’s Eve, the first New Year’s Eve they’d all have together, they all decided to go their separate ways (which was beside the point, in Rose’s opinion, but she’d lost the drive to argue). Jackie and Pete went to some party that a friend was holding a few streets away, dropping off their youngest daughter at a childminder’s for the night. Mickey chose to spend New Year’s with Jake, who he’d grown exceptionally close to since acting as a substitute for Ricky, and so went over to his flat for the night. (Rose chose not to question that one. Not her business, really.)

So she was sitting alone at the kitchen table with a half-empty packet of Doritos and a glass of Bacardi and coke (how very festive), a few crappy Christmas songs playing softly in the corner of the room. Just her and the Doctor. It was supposed to be romantic, she guessed, but how could she feel that way, really?

 It didn’t take long for him to come down the stairs, fresh out of the shower. He was whistling a tune that she’d heard before but couldn’t place; another eerily similar thing in this universe.

 

“Ten minutes to midnight, isn’t it?” he said, running a hand through his slightly damp hair. Rose noted that he was wearing tracksuit bottoms and what appeared to be a t-shirt with the Ghostbusters logo on it; so unlike the traditional suits that he wore, it almost physically pained her.

 

“Fifteen actually,” she told him.

 

“Oh, well,” he smiled, leaning over to steal a crisp from the packet. “Timelord. Always a few minutes ahead.” He smirked at her briefly as he popped the savoury triangle into his mouth, and Rose smiled up at him, but it felt odd and fake on her face. The man she loved was standing before her, yet, not really. The man she loved was off travelling the galaxies, probably with some other pretty companion by now; this man in front of her was just a wax figure that had learned to talk, a caricature that could imitate him perfectly.

 

The Doctor (if she could call him that) smiled softly and moved to sit opposite her at the table. “It’s alright y’know,” he told her, reaching out to put his hand in the middle of no man’s land, hers to take is she felt the need. “It’s okay to feel like you do. I know I’m not technically him. But you should know that... I have the same memories. Go on, ask me a question.”

 

“What was the song you were whistling, when you came down?”

 

“Technically it isn’t a song. Well... I say song,” the Doctor began to explain, hands gesturing wildly as he spoke. “More of a sound effect, when several different forces create friction with each other. Different gusts of wind from different planets, residue left behind by spaceships and such, all moving against each other. It’s known as ‘The Song of The Universe’. It’s what it sounds like to be inside the time vortex.” He paused for a breath and shrugged a little. “You know when you’re driving down a motorway, really fast, and you can hear that constant buzzing noise of the wheels on the tarmac? It’s kind of like that, except you only hear it in a time machine - and instead of one constant noise, it’s quite a catchy melody. Time vortex music. It’s probably how you know it. When you looked into the heart of the TARDIS and all,” he shrugged.

 

Rose frowned to herself. “Oh.”

 

“But yeah. See. Same memories. And the same mannerisms. The same... y’know,” he shrugged, curling in on himself a little, shoulders hunching. “Feelings.”

 

Rose sighed softly and carded a hand through her hair, despite the Dorito dust still on her fingers. “It’s not that simple,” she said. “I know you are him. And it should be easy to feel the way for you as I did when he was around, but-“

 

“Hey,” the Doctor interrupted, “it’s okay. So you kissed me on a beach. Doesn’t mean we’re bound to each other, does it?” he chuckled, but it didn’t sound sincere. Rose could tell she was hurting him, and that was never her intention. She was sure that if she listened hard enough, she could hear his heart breaking. She moved her hand from her head and placed it in the middle of the table, next to his.

 

“I want to be. Bound to you, I mean. I really do. But everything’s so... different. I can’t even make sense of it all.”

 

“Well,” he said, leaning backwards in his chair to check the time on the microwave before leaning back towards her. “It’s five minutes to midnight, and then it’s a whole new day. Whole new year, in fact. I could devote the next year to showing you all the ways things can still be the same,” the Doctor shrugged.

 

“Like a New Year’s Resolution?” she asked tentatively.

 

“Exactly,” he grinned, moving his little finger just slightly, so he could hook it around hers. “Rose, listen to me. I might not have my little blue box, or my sonic screwdriver, or even my second heart. But what I do have is you. And after two years travelling space and time without you, I could never do it again. I felt less like myself then than I do now,” the Doctor told her sincerely, staring down at Rose’s hand to avoid looking directly at her. “So... even if you decide that this isn’t going to work out, and you can’t love me... I just think you should know that for me, it will always be you,” he said, finally looking up to meet her gaze. “In over nine hundred years, it has only ever been you.” Rose smiled softly, hooking her little finger around the Doctor’s and moving her hand just enough to entwine their fingers completely. “My New Year’s Resolution,” he continued, “is to prove to you that I am the same man.”

 

“And mine is to believe you. But if you keep saying soppy things like that, I’ll have achieved it already.”

 

The Doctor smiled, squeezing Rose’s hand gently in his own as the other pinched another Dorito from the bag. “I know you’ll need time,” he told her as he chewed on the crisp, strangely loud in the empty kitchen. “But if anyone can give you that, I can.”

 

“Kind of in the job description isn’t it?” Rose said, eyebrow raised. “ _Time_ lord.”

 

The Doctor grinned at her; a fond smile that made his warm eyes crinkle in the corners. “Exactly,” he murmured, rubbing his thumb delicately across her knuckles. “For you, Rose Tyler, I’ve got all the time in the world.”


End file.
